


hush, jim.

by DictionaryWrites



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Banter, Cute, Fluff, Holding Hands, M/M, Sharing a Bed, Space Husbands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-28
Updated: 2018-12-28
Packaged: 2019-09-29 07:30:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17199203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DictionaryWrites/pseuds/DictionaryWrites
Summary: Just a little bedsharing ficlet.





	hush, jim.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [glorious_spoon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/glorious_spoon/gifts).



> For glorious_spoon's fandom stocking! Happy holidays! <3

Jim shifts in the bed, adjusting his head where it settles on the pillow. He’s only slightly awake, and he can feel the haze of sleep lingering over him as he blearily glances toward the doorway as it _shicks_ closed again. The lights don’t turn on, but he sees the dark figure as it hovers at the end of the bed, leaning down to remove shoes before sliding onto the mattress beside him.

“You’re warm,” Jim says.

And it’s true. Spock is always a little warmer than Jim is, even though the difference in internal temperature is only four or five degrees: it’s kinda nice when he slides into bed beside him, his chest against Jim’s side and radiating dry heat.

“You should be sleeping,” returns Spock’s measured voice.

“I was, Spock. You woke me up.”

“Untrue. The door woke you.”

“You _opening_ the door woke me up.”

“Hush, Jim. _I_ am sleeping.”

Jim laughs, and he feels the twitch of Spock’s lip against his shoulder as he turns away from him, wriggling back slightly so that Spock will mould his body against his back. One of his hands slides over Jim’s belly over his sleepshirt, splaying (“Possessive, aren’t you, Spock?” “No, Jim. Such territorial instincts would be illogical.” “Uh huh.”) over Jim’s abdomen, one thumb resting just below his sternum.

“Won’t my alarm call wake you?” Jim asks quietly. “I’m awake at 0800. You’re not on shift ‘til four hours after me.”

“Let us make the most of our crossover while we can,” Spock mutters, his breath warm and dry against the back of Jim’s neck. Jim shifts his shoulder slightly, and he slides his hand down, interlinking his fingers with Spock’s.

Again, he feels the shift of Spock’s lips against his skin as they quirk up at their edges: subtle, silent, but unmistakable.

“T’hy’la,” Jim murmurs.

“T’hy’la,” Spock replies, and Jim lets himself drift.

**Author's Note:**

> Hit me up [on Dreamwidth](https://dictionarywrites.dreamwidth.org/2287.html). Requests always open.


End file.
